


Say You'll Haunt Me

by Val_Brown



Series: Can I Play The Game? [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mostly Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Serial Killer, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski-centric, Warning: Kate Argent, cold cases, slightly OOC Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Brown/pseuds/Val_Brown
Summary: Looking over the files John ran his hand over his face. Looking back at him were eleven young faces.Eleven young women that will forever be the age in the photographs.If it takes him forever he will find out who did this to them.





	1. Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing work and I will add tags as I go along.
> 
> MAJOR WARNING! I do mention Kate and things that she did to Derek in this story. I do not go into detail at all, but I want to warn ahead of time because I know that it is a very sensitive subject for many. I will warn in the chapter that I post in so that it can be skipped. I'll try not to make it so that anything pertaining to the main story is skipped in that chapter.
> 
> I will try to update semi regularly. I need a kick in the ass to get this thing finished. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Unsure about pairings as of yet**  
> That said, please don't hate me if I take forever to update this.

Sheriff John Stilinski rubbed his hand over his face as he read over the dusty file. 

Victim  
**Name:** Paige Leanne Krasikeva  
**DOB:** 04/14/1977 **DOD:** 12/17/1993 **Age:** 16 **Height:** 5ft. 3in. **Weight:** 120 lbs  
**Cause Of Death:** Fall from height of 45 feet  
**Other Injuries:** Contusions to front of neck and throat. Bruising to left shoulder and arm. Extensive bruising to both right and left wrists and knuckles of both hands. Fingernails broken on both right and left hands, index, middle and ring fingers. Bruising to both right and left knees and shins. Long linear bruising to back of thighs of both legs just above knees.  
**Manner Of Death Determined To Be:** Accidental 

“Dad? What are you reading?” Stiles asked coming into the dining room with a steaming cup of coffee. Setting it on the table he pulled the file from his dad’s hand and skimmed the top sheet of paper. 

“An old case. It was the first case I caught when I got hired on here. The witnesses said she screamed as she fell, they heard arguing from the top of the building and then she went over the side.” John pressed his hand to his forehead.

Stiles ran his finger over the paper. “It was determined to be accidental. If there were witnesses that said they heard her arguing with someone, and it was loud enough to carry from the top of the building, why was it determined to be accidental? Also all of these other injuries that were obviously not caused by the fall and impact, how did they explain those away?” Stiles tugged the top button of his shirt open and settled into the chair, so much like his father as he pressed his hand to his forehead and looked over the file closely.

Taking a drink of his coffee, John looked at Stiles and shrugged. “I have no idea. It could be that they couldn’t be bothered, it was around that time that the mayor was up on corruption charges and David Whittemore was up to his ass in that case. I really have no idea, all I see is that someone dropped the ball on this and this girl’s parents have been lied to for the past twenty years.”

“You should present this case to my Criminal Investigation class. The instructor is looking for cold cases for the class to look into. Let us take a look into this one.” Stiles said, putting a hand on John’s arm.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Fresh eyes can see much more than I can. Oh, one thing you should know,” John said as Stiles stood up, he closed the file and pressed his hands to the cover of the folder. “Peter Hale was the last person to talk to her before she died.”

~

Stiles slammed through the unlocked door of Peter’s apartment. Throwing the file in his hand on the table he growled. “You **lied** to me. She wasn’t **Derek’s** first love. She was _yours_.”

Peter touched the picture that slid out of the folder lightly. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry for lying? Because I’m not. Sure, I lied, are you honestly surprised?”

“Damn it, Peter.” Stiles dropped into the chair across from Peter and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me the truth. About both you _and_ Derek.”

Peter stared down at the photo on the table. “Where did you get this?”

“My dad is looking into cold cases. This is the first one he went to.” Stiles watched Peter as he stared at the picture, a look of absolute grief etched on his normally smug face.

Peter picked up the photo on the table. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Stiles. “She was my best friend. She was my Scott, if you will. Always had my back, made sure I didn’t do anything too stupid, indulged me in my whims at times.”

“You loved her.” Stiles watched Peter’s face, there was a softness in his eyes that Stiles had never seen before. 

Peter shrugged and ran a finger over the picture. “She was scared that last day. She refused to tell me why or what she was scared of. But she was afraid. She told me to go home, that she would talk to me the next morning.” Peter’s voice thickened, he cleared his throat and set the picture on the table. “She never did. She was found less than an hour after I left her.”

Stiles leaned back in his chair. “Why did you tell me and Cora that she was Derek’s girlfriend? What was the motivation behind that? If that’s not the reason his eyes are blue, than what is?”

“Guilt. It’s not always taking an innocent life that causes the eyes to turn blue. It’s also guilt.” Peter shrugged. “Derek has always felt guilty for the fire even though it was not his fault. He didn’t know what a convincing manipulator Kate was. He didn’t know what she was planning.”

“But yours were caused by killing Laura?”

“No.” Peter leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “In the fire. Matthew was only four. He looked just like his mother, big brown eyes filled with mischief. The fire caught on his pajamas, the burns were over nearly all of his body by the time I found him. He was hurting so bad,” Peter whispered, a tear falling from his chin. Wiping at his face, Peter sat back. “I had to. He was human, he wouldn’t have made it. Any time that he had left would have been filled with pain.”

Stiles sniffed softly and wiped at his face. “He was your son.” It was not a question. Peter just nodded and covered his face with his hands. “No wonder you were so lost in the beast.”

“All I heard for six years were his cries. He kept calling for me, asking me to make the hurt stop. She took my entire family away, I had to make her pay. My only regret is that in my blind rage to destroy Kate Argent I took my niece as well.” Peter pushed to his feet and walked to the kitchen. Stiles could hear the cupboard open and the clank of cups as Peter took down a mug and set it on the counter.

“I wanted to let you know that my Criminal Investigation class will be looking into Paige’s case. So sometime soon someone will be stopping by to ask you some questions.” Stiles gathered the file together and stood up. “We will find out what happened to her, Peter. I promise.”

Peter stood in the kitchen doorway and nodded. “You are so much like your dad. Thank you.”

Stiles waved and let the door shut softly behind him.


	2. I Will Hear You

John wasn’t surprised when Peter Hale came into his office early the next morning. He knew that telling Stiles that bit of information would send his son right to Peter.

“You’re looking into Paige’s case.” Peter stated shutting the door and turning to look at John.

“I never stopped looking at it, Peter.” John gestured to the empty chair across from him. “I know she didn’t fall accidentally and I know you didn’t do it. What I don’t know is why and who did it.”

Peter dropped into the chair and put his head in his hands. “John, she was my best friend. I...”

“Peter, tell me what you can remember from that night. Anything at all.” John set his pen down and sat back in his chair.

“She was scared of something. She didn’t want to tell me what or who it was. She said she could handle it on her own and that she didn’t need a wolf at her back.” Peter pushed his hands through his hair and looked up at John. “I left her alone, John. She was scared and I _left_ , then she died.”

“Peter, it’s not your fault. You were sixteen, you didn’t know what was going to happen.” John pushed up from his chair and walked around the desk to sit in front of Peter. 

“I should have.” Peter whispered at the floor. John pressed a hand to Peter’s shoulder, forcing the other man to look up at him.

“Why? Because you’re a werewolf? Because you could see the future?” John asked, exasperation leaking into his voice. “Peter, you could no more have known what would happen than I could have. Paige didn’t tell you what was wrong. I’m sure even she didn’t anticipate what would happen. It is not your fault.”

“It feels like it.” Peter huffed, John could just barely make out the slight tremble in his voice, the sound of tears being held back. 

“Look,” John stood up and held up another folder. John knew the moment Peter read the name on the file _”Hale”_ , and he set it back on his desk and left his hand on it. “Do you think this is Derek’s fault? That he should have known what Kate was going to do? That with all his werewolf abilities he should have been able to sniff out what would happen?”

“No, of course not! He couldn’t have known, he was just...” Peter looked up at John, a look of understanding crossing his face as he shook his head. “he was just a child.”

“Exactly, so were you. You were both just kids. You didn’t know what would happen, neither of you did.” John sat back down in his chair. “It’s not your fault any more than it is hers. The person at fault is the one that sent her off the roof of that building, and I intend to find out who and why.”

“Thank you, John.” Peter said standing up and walking toward the door. “Thank you for not forgetting her.”

 

~

“Each of you was given a file. Inside is the case of sixteen year old Paige Krasikeva. She was found dead on December seventeenth nineteen ninety three. Cause of death was trauma due to fall from a distance of approximately forty five feet.” Professor Anna McGregor said, rounding her desk and stopped at the front row of students. “Here is Sheriff John Stilinski to help read us into the rest of the case.”

“At seven forty five in the evening of December seventeenth nineteen ninety three, I was called to the seven hundred block of Beacon Hills industrial district. Back then the area was normally busy with workers and trucks traveling back and forth between buildings. So when I arrived there was a rather large group of people around the base of one of the warehouses. Once I moved through the crowd I saw the body of who I later found out was Paige Krasikeva. She was lying approximately fifteen feet from the bottom of the building.” John leaned back on the desk and looked around at the lecture hall, each student carefully taking notes or slowly looking through the folder on their desk. “She was still breathing when I reached her. Someone had already called for an ambulance, I knelt down next to her, she reached out one hand and touched my leg. She couldn’t talk, but she was trying to. She died before the ambulance got there.

When I talked to the crowd, many of them said that they could hear her on top of the building arguing with someone before she went over the edge. They said it seemed like she was pushed or thrown, not that she fell.”

A hand shot up from the back row. “Sheriff, if there were witnesses stating she was arguing with someone and that it looked like she had been thrown or pushed from the building, why was it declared an accident?”

“In nineteen ninety three then Mayor Stanley Lewis was on trial for corruption and racketeering, our department was spread thin looking for and going through the evidence for the trial. So we had called in the FBI for help on this case. It was the decision of the lead agent to call it as an accident. Once he called it, they closed it.” John rested his hands on his belt and waited for the question he didn’t want to answer but knew he would have to.

“Sir, Who was the lead FBI agent?” A girl from the front row asked, tapping her pen against her chin.

John saw Stiles perk up in his seat. That was the one question he never answered when Stiles asked. John ran his hand over his forehead. “Agent Rafael McCall.” John watched Stiles face fall at the information. More than anything he hated seeing that face on his son. As quick as the look passed over Stiles face it was gone and a look of determination took over.

“How does the word of an FBI agent override the pathologist?” Stiles asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out the answer on his own.

“Normally it wouldn’t. In this case it really didn’t. Agent McCall told us that they were declaring the case an accident and they were closing it. Only on the FBI side was the case really closed, my department never closed the case.” John flipped his file folder open, pulling a sheet from the back he looked at the class. “I kept the case active for a year. In that time I interviewed all of Paige’s friends and schoolmates. According to one friend she was afraid of something that night, but she refused to tell what it was, said she could handle it on her own.”

“Is that person available to talk?” a student in the back asked.

“Yes, all of the witnesses and friends we talked to are in the file. Most of them are still local.” John closed his file and slid it back into the accordion folder on the desk. “If you have any questions for me I’m usually at the station.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Professor McGregor said as she walked back to the front of the class. John nodded and gathered his files together to tuck back into the box he brought them in. 

~~  
1993

_John was driving down one of the main streets when the call came over the radio._ “Fall from a building. Unknown cause. Witnesses on site. Rescue called.” _Flipping on his lights, John headed toward the address given by dispatch. He pulled up to a crowd surrounding the base of a building. Pushing his way through he saw the body of a young girl, blood pooling around her as she gasped wetly for breath. Kneeling next to her, he tried to find a place not covered in blood, her face, hands and arms were bruised._

_“Can you tell me what happened?” John whispered, leaning closer to her._

_She gasped, her right hand clenching fitfully over air barely touching his leg. John slid his hand into hers and let her hold on. A tear fell from her eye as she gasped deeply one last time and then went limp._


	3. The Crown Hangs Heavy

John pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he looked up at the wall in the dining room. It was covered with pictures. Eleven pictures of young women. Young women that were found dead, the FBI declaring them each accidental. He knew they weren’t accidents, there was something about each that bothered him. 

Beacon Hills had very few serious crimes, they had the occasional robbery, usually a criminal passing through on the way to Oregon. But nothing like this. Gathering the files together he slid them back inside the box and put the lid on it. He was expected in Stiles class again.

~

“You each already have the case of Paige Krasikeva. I have ten more cases. They are my only unsolved cases. Each case was declared an accident by the FBI.” John began, resting his hand on a large box sitting on the Professor’s desk.

“What’s the link between them?” Stiles asked from his seat in the front. John shook his head and smiled at Stiles, he knew that Stiles would be the one to ask the question.

“Their birthdays. Each victim was born in the same month, on the same day, but in different years.” John looked at Stiles, waiting for the next question. He was surprised when it wasn’t him, but the young woman sitting next to him. 

“Once is an accident... what’s the coincidence?” The young woman asked, her pen tapping at the tip of her nose.

“I see you spend time talking to my son. They all died between December and February.” John pulled a file from the box, flipping it open he rubbed his hand over his face as he quickly glanced at the file. “This one, Juliana Jameson was killed in February of 1994. She was found floating in the pond at the back of her house.”

“Sheriff, what’s the pattern that had you bring them to us?” A male voice asked from the back of the classroom. John looked up to see Isaac lowering his hand back to his table. 

John took a deep breath, he knew that this wasn’t necessarily a pattern that would make anyone else look twice, but for him it was too much, especially since he was involved on every case. “Each of the victims was signed up for a self defence class during the months of December and February, and Agent McCall. He was the only agent involved on each case, he was the one that declared each of them accidental even with evidence to the contrary.”

“Is there a stop in the pattern at all over the years?” A young man in the front of the class asks.

“Yes, between 2002 and 2009 there were no killings at all.” John said reaching into the box to pull out a large file folder.

“In 2002 was the Hale Fire, am I right?” The girl sitting next to Stiles asked quietly as she looked over the folder on her table.

“Yes, in December of 2002 the Hale house caught fire and eleven people were killed. It was later determined to be arson. In 2009 we were given information that Kate Argent had allegedly set fire to the house in retaliation against Talia and Elias Hale for pressing charges against her for sexually abusing their then fifteen year old son.” John closed the file in his hand. Even though Stiles and Isaac already knew about what Kate had done to Derek it was still hard to say it out loud in front of them. “We nearly caught her in 2010, but she disappeared. We believe that her father helped her escape before we could serve the warrant.”

The room was silent except for the quiet grinding of teeth that John knew was Stiles, and the low growling from Isaac. John turned to the girl sitting next to Stiles, her hand was raised. 

“Is there any idea where she might be? Is there any link between her and these killings?” She asked, tilting her head slightly as she flipped through her folder.

“The only thing is, when we went back over the evidence of abuse we found that Kate was only in Beacon Hills for three months out of the year and during that time she taught a self defense class. From 1993 to 1996 she helped her father teach the class.” John looked down at his notes and heard Stiles gasp before he exploded into a flailing mess of limbs. “Right now we know that she is in prison in Oregon for attempted arson.”

“Was she here from December to February?” Stiles asked with enthusiasm as things started clicking for him, making his seat partner jump. “We need to follow her trail back over the years, find out if there is anyway that these killings are linked other than the links we have. Find out if there is any other link to Kate Argent.”

John nodded and pulled a sheet of paper from his folder. “Her brother and niece live here still. They both know that you will be visiting them with questions about Kate.”

~

Chris pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t in Beacon Hills after 1992. My wife and I were on the East Coast. Virginia, I think at that time. My daughter, Allison was not even a year old yet so we were staying there, not traveling for the next year I believe. We didn’t come back to Beacon Hills to stay until 2011, after the death of my wife.”

Stiles sat back on the couch, the same couch he had sat on the weekend before with his dad when they sat down with Chris and Allison to hash out a new set of rules for hunters coming through Beacon Hills. He hated doing this to a man he considered a friend. “When was the last time you saw Kate, Mr. Argent?”

Chris looked at the girl, Kim, that asked the question. “The last time I saw my sister was at her sentencing hearing for attempted arson in 2010. She’s still in prison in Oregon, she’s up for parole in about six months.”

Stiles head snapped up from where he was taking notes, he narrowed his eyes at Chris. Never once in all the time they had spent together had Chris said he knew when Kate was due to be released. Stiles carefully set his notebook on the coffee table in front of them. “Mr. Argent,” Chris winced at the venom in Stiles’ voice. “Was it perhaps a house full of people that she tried to burn down?”

“What are you implying Stiles?” Allison asked as she came into the room and sat next to her father. 

“Nothing, just asking a question.” He glared at Chris with a look that said they would be speaking later after Stiles took Kim home. “So, before Kate was arrested in Oregon, when was the last time you had seen her?”

“She had visited my father here, for Christmas in 2009 and I assume stayed until late February.” Chris could see the cogs slotting into place on Stiles face. 

“Okay so that was the last time you saw her here in Beacon Hills?” 

“Yes,” Chris stood up as Stiles and Kim did after that question. 

“Thank you Mr. Argent. If we have any other questions we will let you know.” Kim said, a pleasant smile on her face as she tucked her notebook into her bag. Stiles handed her the keys and told her he would be right out to the car.

“I will be back in twenty minutes. We have things to discuss.” The tone of his voice brooked no argument. Chris nodded, knowing exactly what Stiles was thinking, it wasn’t like it was something he hadn’t wondered himself. Especially after Kate’s arrest for attempting to burn down that home in Oregon. It was too similar for him to refuse the obvious.

Chris watched Stiles walk to his jeep and exhaled heavily.

“Kate burned the Hales didn’t she?” Allison asked quietly from the foyer.

“I think so, yeah.” Chris turned to look at his daughter. 

“I’m more than willing to believe Gerard was part of that . She’s not smart enough to pull it off alone. She’s a doer, not a planner. He’s the planner.” Allison moved to the living room and sat heavily on the couch. “Have you heard from him? I mean since the sentencing?”

“No, he refuses to acknowledge my existence since we changed the code.”


	4. Hung Overhead Like Storm Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in this chapter!! 
> 
> Rafael McCall knew what Kate was doing to Derek and it is discussed in this chapter. Not in detail but is is mentioned.
> 
>  
> 
> Another is this is in no way mitigating what Peter did to Lydia, I tried to make her reactions to him as realistic as I can in an imaginative setting, with already established issues. I tried to make the others understanding of her feelings but also wanting her to help them find who killed the girls and not telling her that she HAD to forgive Peter. (Does that make sense? It does in my head)

John flipped through his notes on the last of his cold cases.

Victim  
Name: Carmen Magdalena Garcia-Resendez  
DOB: 04/14/1990 DOD estimated to be: 02/14/2010 Age: 19 Height: 5ft. 5in. Weight: 135 lbs  
Cause Of Death: Unable to determine due to condition of body  
Other Injuries: Body was found burnt beyond physical recognition. Identity established from DNA given from mother of victim  
Manner Of Death Determined To Be: Possible homicide. 

 

This is the only one of the cold cases that was not determined to be an accident. John didn’t know how to even begin putting the pieces of this together. None of the victims knew each other, the only link other than the birthdates, was Kate and Gerard Argent. Each of the victims took part in the four week self defense class that Kate taught alongside her father. Each victim disappeared after the last class and was found less than a week later. John looked down at that one name on each case that bothered him, Rafael McCall. Each case was overseen by him, each case was declared an accident even when all other evidence pointed toward homicide. John pinched the bridge of his nose and picked up his phone. He needed to talk to McCall.

~

“What is the point in opening these cases again? They were determined to be accidental.” Rafael said sitting in the chair across from John’s desk.

“Just because you determined them to be accidental, Rafael, doesn’t mean that they were accidents.” John leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “How can you determine that a death was accidental when the victim died of thirteen stab wounds to the back and neck? How does someone accidentally die like that?”

“None of the...” 

“Yes actually, one of the victims did die like that. McKenna Brown, she died in December 2009 and was killed by stab wounds to the back and neck. Morgan Burdock, killed in December 1995 was found strangled to death. Amanda Levin, died February 1996 her brake lines and steering line were cut before her car accident. Do you want me to go on, Rafael? Because I have seven more young girls here, not to mention this,” John tossed the file for the Hale fire on the desk. “yet another one you dismissed as an accident even when evidence was overwhelmingly against that conclusion.”

Rafael swallowed audibly, staring at the files. John was angry enough that he didn’t see Stiles until he was already in his office. 

“Agent McCall, how interesting that you are here right now when I have a new bit of information for my dad.” Stiles hitched his hip on the corner of the desk and handed John the folder in his hand. “Isaac dug up something that, to say the least was a shock, I can say that I was not expecting to find out.”

John felt his eyebrows climb higher up his forehead as he read the file in his hands. “You were sleeping with Kate Argent?”

John watched as Rafael stood up and moved to shut the office door. “It was never supposed to happen.”

“Start at the beginning then, Agent.” Stiles said, his voice low and tinged with anger. John reached over and put a hand on Stiles arm, hoping to calm him. 

“It was in late May nineteen ninety three. She came through the San Francisco bureau on a high school class trip. I didn’t think anything of it until I came to Beacon Hills a couple months later and there she was, a lifeguard at the local pool we took Scott to for tiny tot swim lessons.” Rafael rubbed his hand over his face.

“You’re telling me that while Melissa was in the pool with your son, you were watching a teenager?” John was livid, not just because of the secret that Rafael had kept for the past twenty years but that he had betrayed Melissa and Scott. “How long did it go on?”

Rafael blew out a breath, resting his head in his hands. “Until two thousand ten.”

John just sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face. 

Stiles stepped around the desk and placed both hands on the top, leaning in toward Rafael. “Did you know she burned the Hale house to the ground with the family inside? Did you know she was molesting fifteen year old Derek Hale?”

“I’ve got a better question, Stiles.” Isaac said quietly from his spot near the closed door. “Did you even care that she was molesting a child, _Agent McCall_?”

“I didn’t,” Rafael pressed his fist to his mouth and shook his head. “I didn’t know, I swear.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, McCall, but I don’t believe you.” Isaac said, his eyes starting to glow cobalt blue.

Stiles whipped his head around to stare at Isaac before stalking toward Rafael, his hands curled tightly into fists. “You _knew_! You knew what she was doing. You knew she targeted him. You let it happen. All of it.”

John stepped forward quickly and stopped Stiles from attacking Rafael, he just glanced at Isaac to make sure he was staying put. He didn’t blame Stiles in his rage, hell, John was using every ounce of his own willpower not to shoot Rafael and then lock him up for facilitating Kate in molesting Derek and murdering his family. 

“Stiles, rein it in. It’s not on us to judge him.” John said, his voice harsh, but not at Stiles. 

“Judge him? Fuck that, I want to shoot him.” Stiles snarled, but let John guide him nearer to Isaac and then John turned back to Rafael. 

“You covered for her, you thought that she did it, all of the murders and you covered them up for her. You threw away everything, to help a murderer.” John said his voice pitched low and angry.

“She may not,” Rafael started before he was cut off by Isaac.

“Maybe not, maybe it was someone else. But if it was, you helped them get away with it because _you_ thought it could be your girlfriend so you buried it and mislabeled the murders as accidents.You lied to families about what happened to their daughters.” Isaac growled, his teeth sharpening as he leaned against the wall. John kept his eyes on Isaac, he knew Isaac had good control, but there were somethings that could push him over the edge and this was one of those things. His brother Cameron had been dating Brianne Olson, victim number nine, and had been on the basketball team with Derek. 

“Isaac.” John said, knowing that he would get what John was laying down without having to say more.

Isaac nodded and blinked, his eyes going back to their normal blue and his teeth sliding back to normal. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Agent McCall, and it’s not to me.” John said, walking around his desk and picking up his phone.

Rafael hung his head and let John make the call that Rafael should have made when he started making the connections twenty years ago.

~

 

Stiles stood in front of the Pack and waited until they quieted down. He looked over at Peter before clearing his throat.

“So I asked you all here to explain a few things that will be going on.” Stiles began pacing the room, he held a folder in his hands and watched the faces of the Pack as he stopped and opened it, holding up a picture. “This is Paige. She was murdered in nineteen ninety three. She was the first in a twenty year string of murders that have haunted my dad. There are ten more girls and the Hale fire in the string. I have copies of all the files.”

“Why are you bringing them to us?” Lydia asks reaching for one of the files.

“A few reasons. But the main one is that my dad is pretty sure the killer will strike again.” Stiles said watching the room.”In about six months when Kate Argent gets out of prison in Oregon. But as much as I want this to be Kate’s work. I can’t get over the fact that Kate is too sloppy to do this. All of these killings, minus the Hales, are too organized to be Kate. She was not a planner, she was an executioner. She followed orders, lit the match. There is no way she could pull these off alone.”

“Can you tell us about the girls?” Boyd asked, opening a file and looking down at a pretty dark skinned girl, Stiles could see that it was Kaia Murphy’s file. 

“I’ll cede the floor to Peter to start. He knew the first victim.” Stiles sat down in the chair that Peter vacated. 

“Paige and I went to school together. We met when we were in the second grade, she was my other half, my better half if you will. For about two weeks leading up to her death, she was afraid. She would never tell me what she was scared of, but I could smell the fear on her. She would let me take her home so she wasn’t alone, but that last night,” Peter paused and cleared his throat. “That last night she refused to let me take her home. She said she would be fine and that she would call me in an hour. She never called me. Instead my mom opened the door to a young Deputy Stilinski the next morning asking for me.

I told them everything that happened that last night and for the two weeks leading up to it. I had and still have no clue who did it or why.”

“How do we know you aren’t lying to us? How do we know you didn’t kill her too?” Lydia snapped, tossing her folder on the table. Stiles could feel his eyes widen as he turned an incredulous look on Lydia. “How are we to know that she wasn’t your first victim? You do tend to murder those close to you.”

“What the fuck, Lydia?” Stiles snarled, he stood from his chair quickly, only stopping because Peter put a hand on his chest. 

“He’s got killer’s eyes, Stiles! How can you believe a word he says?” Lydia snapped angrily.

“So do I.” Isaac said softly from behind Lydia.

“Me too.” Jackson said.

Derek just raised his hand, not saying a word.

“If I were a wolf, I would have killer’s eyes too, Lydia. Does that mean I’m a liar?” Stiles said softly, angry.

“He _attacked_ me, Stiles!” Lydia shouted, furious.

“He attacked Scott too, he’s also saved all of us many times. We killed him, remember? Burned him alive, for the second time, and Derek, his nephew, tore his throat out then buried his still smoking corpse under the burned remains of their pack house.” Stiles was angry, he understood Lydia’s anger, he did. Hell he was still mad about the things that Peter had done. But he also was able to look beyond that and see the man that was buried under grief and rage. “I’m not excusing his actions. But think about what he went through, Lydia.”

“I don’t care.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Do you know why he has blue eyes?” Stiles asked, his voice low, vicious. “His four year old son, Matthew, was home when Kate set the house on fire. His room was the first one to catch, he was asleep and his bed caught fire. By the time Peter was able to get to his room, he was burned over ninety percent of his body. He was crying for his daddy to make the hurting stop. So Peter did the only thing he could, because his only child had no possibility of survival. _That_ Lydia, is why his eyes are blue.”

Stiles turned on his heel and stalked from the loft, dragging Peter with him, letting the door slide shut behind them.

“Wow, Lydia. You’re kind of a bitch.” Erica piped up after Stiles left. She knew that she should probably keep her mouth shut, but she really didn’t care. She never liked Lydia. She always acted like she was better than everyone, when in reality she was just like them.

“I never thought I would agree with you, Erica. But yeah.” Jackson said from behind Lydia. “You are acting pretty heartless.”

“He attacked me.” She hissed, whirling in a circle to stare at all of them. “He chased me down and bit me, then left me there to bleed.”

“He did the same to me, and yet I’ve been able to get beyond that and see him as a person. He lost more than any of us could imagine. He not only lost his family in a fire, but his son was so injured that he wouldn’t have survived and the minimal time he had left would have been filled with pain.” Scott said, his voice soft but with an edge. “Yes, he killed Laura. He’s never denied that. But think about where his head was at that moment. His Alpha had abandoned him for six years in a medical facility in a coma where he had to suffer through weakening pack bonds and the phantom screams of his son and dead Pack. So he comes out of his coma in a fugue state and nearly a feral omega. Once he realizes what he’s done he can’t undo it.

But what he can do is take care of those that murdered his Pack.”

“What about what he did to my mind when he decided to come back from the dead? Huh? How about that?!” Lydia nearly screamed.

“No one is asking you to forget anything. Not one of us have. We know what he did to you. No one is saying that it was okay. We aren’t asking you to forgive. We’re asking you to help us find the murderer of these girls.” Derek said his voice dropping, getting softer. “Growing up Peter was just a few years older than Laura. He was more like our older brother than an uncle. I’m not saying that I’m not angry that he killed Laura. Because I’m angry as hell, he murdered my sister. But in the same vein our Alpha abandoned a pack member that was gravely wounded, without even a second thought. My wolf understands why Peter killed her, _I_ understand. It’s her fault he woke up feral. If we would have stayed here, or taken him with us he wouldn’t have woken up like that. Needing to create the pack he lost. 

He would have woken up to Pack surrounding him and helping him heal. He probably would have woken up much sooner. But instead he woke up to a nurse that may have been molesting him while he was incapacitated, who manipulated him on full moons when he was essentially feral and tried to force him to give her the bite.”

Lydia huffed at them. “I will never forgive him for what he did to me.”

“No one is asking you to. We are just asking you to help us find the killer of these girls.” Scott said, picking up the folder Lydia threw onto the table and holding it out to her. “Please Lydia.”

Lydia looked at the folder in Scott’s hand, one photo slipped out of the folder and fluttered to the floor. A pretty smiling face framed by strawberry blonde hair. Lydia was silent as she picked up the photo. She turned it over in her hands and read the name on the back. 

_Rian Andrews Age 16 photo taken Sept. 1996_

“What do you need me to do?”


	5. And Now Your Perfect World Is Fucked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is allusions to Rafael being present at Derek's sexual assault in this chapter. Nothing mentioned in detail, though Scott has an explosive reaction.

John walked passed the front desk his coffee in hand. “Good Morning, Amelia. How are you doing this morning?”

The woman behind the desk pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled up at John. “ Very well, Sheriff. How are you doing?”

“Pretty good, was able to sneak out of the house to get a coffee and donut without Stiles catching me.” John said with a laugh as he went into his office. 

Setting his coffee on his desk he turned to the file left in his in basket. It was the information he had requested about the Hale fire. He looked at the stack of boxes lined up against his wall, he pulled the one marked Hale over to his desk and opened it.

He spread the pictures out along the long table at the back of his office. It had taken him nearly three days to look at the photos for the first time after the fire. The sight of the bodies, too many of them blackened from burns, but the most heartbreaking were the children. All of the children, except little Matthew, had no injuries but had succumbed to smoke; their bodies shielded from the flames by the adults.

John slid the photo of little Matthew Hale across the table. He would have turned twelve in June. But now John is staring at a photo of a horrifically burned tiny body. John knew that the fire isn’t what killed Matthew. He didn’t blame Peter for doing what he did. The official report said that Matthew died from suffocation due to smoke inhalation. 

But John knew. 

He knew and he didn’t blame Peter. He would have done the same thing if it were Stiles. There was no way Matthew would have survived his burns. That he lived long enough for Peter to even find him was a miracle. John rubbed his hand over his face. He had looked over this file every day since the fire and he has not been able to find one hard piece of evidence that proves Kate did this. 

All he has is conjecture, speculation and suspicion. Sure, he has proof that she was assaulting Derek. He has her statements admitting to it, Derek’s statements about it and now Rafe’s. But he has no actual proof she started the fire that killed ninety percent of the Hales.

He groaned into his hands and turned to his coffee. He took a drink and looked at the statements. Kate never denied what she did to and with Derek, yet when asked about the fire she just smiled. 

John dragged Derek’s statement across his desk and began to read it. It was extremely detailed and just reading the things that Kate did to Derek, made John sick to his stomach. The degradation and verbal abuse was bad enough but reading about the physical and sexual abuse was possibly one of the worst things he had ever read. 

Knowing that Rafe knew about this made him nearly white out in rage. That Rafe knew this was happening, and according to his own statement had actually seen it happen at least one time, was enough to nearly make him forget his job and shoot Rafe in the face. 

But now that Rafe had given his statement and was in the process of being dealt with by the authorities, John knew that he would have to make Melissa and Scott aware of what was going on. They were going to find out and John would prefer if they found out from him and not from the news.

He picked up his phone, taking a deep breath, he dialed Melissa’s number. 

~

Stiles sat on Scott’s couch and waited for his friend to come home. His dad had called him about an hour before and let him know that he was telling Melissa about Rafe and that Stiles should talk to Scott before Melissa came home. That way he could get his anger and rage out before she saw.

Stiles agreed that this was best and now he waited.

The front door open and shut as Scott walked into the living room. “Hey man, your dad said you had something to tell me?”

Stiles pressed his thumb against his mouth and nodded. “Yeah, please, sit. This is so damn hard.”

Stiles watched the emotions play across Scott’s face. “It’s not my mom is it? She’s okay, right?”

“Oh no, your mom is fine. She’s with my dad right now. He’s talking to her about this as well.”

“What’s going on, dude? You’re freaking me out.” Scott sat down and looked over at Stiles. 

Stiles blew out a breath and looked his friend in the face. “You know what Kate did to Derek right?”

“Yeah, it was fucked up. What’s that have to do with me?” Scott asked, confusion marring his features.

Stiles looked at Scott and decided the best way to do it was without drawing it out. “God, this is so hard. Um,” Stiles took a deep breath. “Your dad was having an affair with Kate Argent and he knew about what she was doing to Derek. He was there sometimes when it happened.”

Scott was silent as he stared blankly at Stiles. Finally he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Did he do anything to Derek too?” He whispered his voice breaking.

“I don’t know, man. He didn’t admit to it and Derek has never even said there was another person involved.” Stiles said his voice soft and wavery.

“Where is he?” Scott’s voice rose slightly as he stood up. Stiles stood and walked over to where Scott was standing. He noticed Scott’s eyes bleeding gold.

“Scott,” Stiles started, before Scott slipped into his beta shift and growled.

“Where is my father, Stiles?”

“Scott, he’s in San Francisco. He’s being dealt with there. Punching him in the face won’t help Derek.” Stiles said putting one hand on Scott’s shoulder and the other forcing Scott to look at him.

“I don’t want to punch him, Stiles. I want to tear his throat out. I can’t believe he did that. Then had the nerve to come back here and try to get your dad fired for nothing!” Scott began breathing heavily, it sounded like when he would begin to have an asthma attack before the bite. “He cheated on my mom, he lied to her and he knew. He _knew_ what Kate was doing to Derek?”

Stiles watched as Scott fell apart. He barely had time to catch Scott before he hit the floor, his knees buckling, he howled his rage. “How could he, Stiles? Why?”

Stiles just held Scott as he raged, struggling to keep Scott’s claws from tearing into his own flesh as he howled. 

It was nearly twenty minutes later when he finally calmed down and Melissa walked into the house, her eyes red and puffy, John right behind her.

Scott looked up at Melissa, tears still on his cheeks. “Mama.”

“I know mi hijo.” Melissa dropped to her knees next to him and pulled him against her. “He didn’t?”

“No, he never. But mama, he,” Scott’s voice broke. “Derek.”

“Mi hijo, look at me.” Melissa forced him to look her in the eyes. “This is all on Rafael. Remember that. He made his choices and they do not reflect on you. His choices are not your choices.”

Scott nodded and laid his head on Melissa’s shoulder. Stiles looked over at John and knew they were going to make a trip to San Francisco.

~

Amelia watched John through his open office door. He laughed at something Deputy Parrish said, throwing his head back. She sighed and rested her chin on her hand, her sandwich forgotten.

She was so caught up watching him, she didn’t hear the door chime.

She startled, nearly knocking her drink over at the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Oh my gosh!” She pressed her hand to her chest and looked up to a handsome face and piercing blue eyes. “I am so sorry, how can I help you?”

“I”m here to speak with Sheriff Stilinski.” The man said, one hand in his pocket, the other resting a paper bag on the counter.

“Of course, can I tell him who’s here?”

“I’m sorry. I’m being rude. Let him know Peter Hale is here, please.” The man, Peter, said with a blinding smile.

Amelia blushed and picked up her phone buzzing into the Sheriff’s office. “Sheriff Stilinski? A Peter Hale is here to see you.”

She hung up the phone and turned a smile up at Peter. “You can head back, he’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Peter said heading past the swinging door as she buzzed him through.

~

Peter smirked as he walked back to the Sheriff’s office. He could smell the lust on the woman at the front desk, and for the first time in a long time it was not aimed at him. He wondered if the Sheriff knew.

“John,” Peter said in greeting as he entered the office, noticing Jordan he smiled and sat on the couch.”Stiles sent me down with lunch for you.” Peter held up a bag.

“That does not look like something my son would allow.” John said, his eyes sparkling.

“That’s because the lunch your son wanted me to feed you was rabbit food and not fit for human consumption.” Peter sniffed as he set the bag on John’s desk. “I picked you up a burger, because I know you like flavor in your food.”

John pulled the burger out of the bag and sighed happily at the grease soaking through the wrapper. Taking a bite he closed his eyes and pointed a finger in the direction of Peter and Jordan. “Stiles never finds out.”

“Of course not, John. He’ll skin us.” Jordan said with a laugh, stealing a fry from the bag.

“So, John. Derek told me about Rafael McCall. He said that while he was present at some of the incidents with Kate,” Peter rubbed his hands together and looked up at John and Jordan. “He never participated. Though he did seem to enjoy watching.”

John swallowed the mouthful of burger and pushed a folder across the desk with his clean hand. “This is the statement Rafael gave the San Francisco bureau. He basically says that in here.”

Peter opened the file that John slid across the desk. He skimmed it and realized that Derek kept most of the details of all that Kate did to him, to himself. He very deliberately did not read in detail the things that Kate did to Derek, because if he did he would be in his car on his way to Oregon; to break into the prison there to kill her.

“So, Stiles told me that in addition to his class working on these cases, the pack is also involved.” John said between bites of his burger. 

“Yes, Stiles has given them the same information hoping that they can help with this. He’s skeptical that Kate did this on her own.” Peter said settled back into the chair. 

“What do you think?” Jordan asked, sliding into the chair next to Peter.

Peter tilted his head before answering. “I think she was the match, but not the spark. There was someone else running the show.”

“What do you mean? You think someone was telling her who to kill?” Jordan asked, perching his hip against the corner of John’s desk.

“Yes, I think that she is the gun so to speak. She is pretty much pointed in the right direction and told what to do. The only one she did alone was the fire. That was sloppy. All signs point to her even without all the evidence.” Peter slid the folder back across the desk toward John. “The question now is, who was that close to her for all those years? Who had the ability and power enough to convince her to kill?”

“It sounds so cliche, but what about Gerard?” Jordan asked, settling back on the couch. “He was here during the same time frame, he had the same access to the victims, he had the motive to burn the Hales, because of the accusations.”

“True, but what is he getting out of the other killings?” John asked wiping his mouth. “With killing the Hales, he gets two birds with one stone. A whole Pack wiped out and the people that have proof his daughter raped their son. 

But the other girls, what does he get out of their deaths, if he’s not the one doing it?”

“What if he likes watching? He gets the power trip from telling Kate to do it and he watches as she follows orders.” Jordan suggested looking at both Peter and John.

“But can we prove it?” John asks, looking at the pictures posted on the corkboard. “Is there anything that can point us in his direction?”

Peter moved to shut the door as Jordan pulled a box of files from the shelf to the table in the center of the office.


End file.
